somehow his ringed fingers had ended up curling around a cigarette, his lighter clutched in his hand as it flickered. his shaky hand brought it to the tip as he held his stress reliever tighter.
and that was when my hand shot up to stop him, "miles, you can't smoke in this house. my mom has really bad asthma."
his eyes were wide and his body froze before he shook his head, untangling himself from me, "sorry..." his hands were scratching at his wrists, he needed a smoke and he needed one badly but he kept that addiction at bay as he started to pull on his shoes and a random flannel laying around. and then he headed towards the door quickly his hand turning the knob quietly as if he were afraid my parents would hear.
as if i was still in high school.
my eyes followed him, "where are you going?"
his voice came out slightly hoarse as he turned his head to look at the window rather than my face, "i can't smoke here and i'm not gonna be a fucking douche about it. i'm going out."
he was going out and i could tell he didn't want me to come with him.
"don't wait up."
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train wreck ✓
Short Storyall i've done defeats me //rooftops with miles// [sequel to brown haired boy] friday, may 1st: #2 in short story